Michael went back downstairs to where the three ladies of the house, five servents, and his five children were in the midst of decorating a tree in the nursery. Claire was trying to attach bows to the wall. The cheer of the children heralded their father's entrance and interrupted what Claire was trying to say to him. After Michael wiggled free of the three younger children, he approached Claire who openly asked, “So, is my husband going to join us for the holiday this year?”
Michael just shook his head. Out of habit, he made the keening noise he used around Morgan to verbalize it. “I don't think he will. I asked, but I -”
“You know, he could make the effert to be around just once.”
“Claire, I don't think it's that simple. He has been robbed of this wonderful celebration for as long as I can remember. The damage has been done and we can't really give him what he wants out of it.”
Michael became aware of the whole room now staring at them. Asynchronously, he got a chorus of “What does he want?”
Michael tapped an framed photo on the wall. Two young boys sat nattily dressed on a man's lap. All three were widely smiling. “This is the only Christmas I know Morgan was home. I can barely remember it, it was so long ago, but Morgan used to smile like that a lot. Then, mother broke him.”
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